


Might Just As Well

by beriallen



Category: Korean Actor RPF, Running Man RPF
Genre: F/M, Monday Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beriallen/pseuds/beriallen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Funny how Ji Hyo doesn't feel any different. She sees it in their friends instead: in the crew's exchanged looks, in Ha Ha's complaints, in Jae Suk's smile.</p>
<p>Changes are coming. And while Ji Hyo is never afraid of heights, falling is another matter altogether.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Might Just As Well

**Author's Note:**

> Includes references to _Running Man_ episodes 97, 148 and 159; _Emergency Couple_ and the fan meeting in Singapore.

I don't know about my love  
I don't know about my lovin' anymore  
All that I know is I'm fallin', fallin', fallin', fallin'  
Might as well fall in

— _The Wilhelm Scream_ , James Blake

 

 

 

 

 

It was a little more than one year ago when she came to him with the news.

She remembered that night. She remembered they had just finished with the filming. It was already late and she was exhausted, but she needed to let him know.

She remembered it was Monday.

“Kang Gary,” Ji Hyo called out to him when she spotted his back. Jong Kook oppa had once said that he could recognize Gary anywhere and, as Gary turned around to meet her, she found herself chuckling at the thought.

She ran up to him. “I want to talk to you.”

He frowned at her. “What?” he asked. “Why are you acting like a spy?”

“Oh, Kang Gary,” she said, letting out a soft giggle.

She didn’t remember when she first stopped calling him ‘Oppa.’

Ji Hyo coughed. “You know, you don’t have to, umm,” she said. “You don’t have to be careful of what you’re saying on the show anymore.”

He just stared at her. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, just say anything you want to me. Nobody is going to be upset,” she said. “Not anymore.”

He didn’t say anything to that, nodding his head as a response instead. They walked together in silence and she couldn’t help but notice the way he slowed his steps to match hers.

They were about to reach his car when she remarked, “Kang Gary, you do understand, right? I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

He gave her another nod, while his fingers searched for something inside the pocket of his pants. She could hear the sound of keys jingling behind the fabric. “I see, I see,” he mumbled.

Ji Hyo stood beside him, waiting. And the keys kept jingling.

She sighed. “Well—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered abruptly. He waved his right hand slightly before deciding to put it on top of his cap. “I mean,” he continued. “It’ll be good, though. For the show, I mean.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He was quiet again. His hand was already back in his pocket, and this time, he really took out his keys. There were too many of them hanging from one keychain and she shook her head, scoffing. That only encouraged him, as he dangled the keys in front of her face, creating a noise that sounded too shrill at night, although not as loud as their laughter.

“Hop in. I’ll drive you to your car,” he said all of a sudden.

She stepped back. “I can walk.”

“I know you can,” he said, squinting at her. When she didn’t answer, he pressed on, “It doesn’t make you less of an ace if you let other people help you once in a while, you know?”

She crossed her arms almost immediately. She thought of her mother and the conversation they had one weekend. Her mother had watched them on TV. “He’s a funny kid, that Gary,” her mother had said over a cup of tea. Ji Hyo had surprised herself with her quick reply. “He is, he is.”

In front of her, Gary fumbled with his keys again.

“Ji Hyo yah—”

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She trotted over to the passenger door and climbed inside the car before she could change her mind. Gary settled himself beside her, his fingers clutching the steering wheel.

There was a note of hesitancy in his voice when he asked, “Are you alright?”

She stared out the windshield, letting the question hang in the air for a while, buying herself some time. She took a deep breath. “I’m _not_ not alright. Does that make any sense?”

She turned to face him, only to find him already looking at her; somehow she was already used to it. He merely offered her a smile and proceeded to put the key into the ignition.

Looking back, this was when everything started; the moments that were about to happen between the two of them seemed to begin the second she fastened her seat belt.

It was that easy.

 

 

 

 

 

The random texts—this was Kang Gary, after all—came first.

 

_Mong Ji, what should I bring to Macau?_

_What!? Just bring your clothes!_

_I know! But what kind?_

_You really are high maintenance, aren’t you!?_

_Mong Ji?_

_I’m not your manager, you fool!_

_... I’m sorry._

 

She wasn’t entirely blameless either.

 

_Kang Gary, can I buy a ticket to your concert from you?_

_You’re going? Just come through the back door!_

_Yeah, but can I just buy the ticket from you?_

_You fool, just meet me in the backstage._

_Are you sure!? I can sing with you, if you want. As payment ;) Haha!_

_Done!_

_What!? I was joking!_

_Too late. I already told Gil._

_Kang Gary!!!!!_

 

Changes were inevitable.

Funny how Ji Hyo didn’t feel any different. She saw them in their friends instead.

It was in the crew’s exchanged looks. Ji Hyo admired Gary his quick wit, and there were times when she felt she could never be able to match his quips. But as she found more comfortable footing in this relationship, she teased— No, she flirted back. And behind the camera, the PD spoke to her VJ in a hushed tone, covering his mouth so she couldn’t even guess what he was gossiping about.

It was in Ha Ha’s continuous complaints. “I thought once I’m married, I will never know what it feels like to be a third wheel again,” he had said. Once, while she and Gary rapped to a made-up song in the front seats of their team’s designated car, for one fleeting moment, Ji Hyo had forgotten about Ha Ha sitting in the back. Her eyes met his in the rearview mirror. She glanced away when he knitted his brows at her, seemingly trying to figure her out.

It was in the way Jae Suk oppa smiled at their direction. Once in a while, she would hear him yell, “You match each other!” He would point at them and declare loudly to anyone who was willing to listen. “These two. These two,” he would say.

Long-distance calls were a natural progression.

Gary gave her the answer the second her question left her lips. “Yes,” he had said on that one phone call.

Yet, once the camera lights were on, he cringed uncomfortably at her. “Ji Hyo yah,” he muttered between his teeth. “I’m nervous.”

She laughed at that. “Ah Kang Gary. You’re so good at acting, though,” she blurted out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind at the last second, letting out a feeble “Yeah“ as he stared at the ground.

Somehow she knew what he was thinking; this wouldn’t be the first time for her. She had long stopped wondering why the two of them seemed to think alike. In the back of her mind, Seok Jin oppa’s voice nagged her, “How come you guys always win together? Why is it always you two?”

And she knew what Gary was thinking then: of producers purposely putting them in the same team, of them constantly reminding him of his roles, of them coaxing jealous reactions out of him, of him having to put a certain face forward for the camera.

But she wasn’t talking about _that_ kind of acting.

She was talking about him. Here was Kang Gary, a man who could be too thick for his own good, but here was the same Kang Gary, a man who could string his words into something so yearning and dangerously earnest. He was more rounded than he had been given credit for and there were things he was hiding, obviously. She called it his ‘grand acting.’ She had heard people talk about ‘mask’ or ‘walls’ or what have you. But it was probably the actress in her who made her see the theatricality of things.

He didn’t necessarily make any sense to her. And yet, she was the one who got to play house with him.

She asked him, then, “Do you want to practice one more time?”

That made him grin. “Yeah, sure!”

It was so him to not even give her time to say anything anymore. He took her hands in his without even looking down, like he always knew where to find them. Her fingers voluntarily interlocked with his, tracing the familiar warmth of his knuckles. He lifted their hands up.

It wasn’t until he whispered, “Mong Ji? Action,” that she realized she was supposed to start reciting her lines.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

 

 

 

 

 

It was almost out of habit when she invited him to her house. Gary laughed that laugh of his when she mentioned it, knowing how sensitive the topic was for her. Well, she couldn’t just bring gold bars to any place, she reasoned.

“What gold?”

She shook her head. “Really? That’s the first thing you have to say after I let you inside my house?”

“Nice house,” he replied quickly. He hadn’t even moved past the doorway. “What gold?”

She sighed, gesturing for him to follow her to the dining room. “Remember that gold bars we won together, and I got four more than you, and you said I planned the whole thing?” she asked him. “How dare you, by the way.”

He grinned sheepishly, scratching his head instinctively. “Ji Hyo yah—”

Two of the gold bars waited for them on the dining table, beckoning from inside a see-through plastic bag.

“Ji Hyo yah!” Gary shrieked when he noticed the gold bars. “For real? I was only joking!”

She waved him off. “It’s alright.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, but his hand was reaching for the gold bars already, and she let out an exasperated groan.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I chose you, didn’t I?”

He gasped at that; it was subtle and deafening, throwing her off guard.

Her words proved to be too heavy than she intended, and tension sprang out of thin air, hovering overhead. Her gaze fell on the kitchen shelves and she was reminded of a half-cup of cold, bland coffee from a vending machine.

His answer came a beat too late. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, why did you?”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another, weighing. There was a whiff of cold air and her left hand moved to massage her right arm before she could stop it.

She opted for another question instead. “Why did _you_?”

Gary chuckled at that, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Ji Hyo, Ji Hyo,” he uttered, looking at anywhere but her.

“Kang Gary—”

“I’d choose you any day,” he announced without a flinch.

She bit her lip, offering him nothing. When she did respond, she was whispering, almost inaudibly, “Why?”

The left end of his lips curled upward, creating a half-smile. “Ah Ji Hyo,” he mumbled, letting out a breath. She has seen this before: on the sideline of the soccer field he stood undecidedly, eyeing for a chance to go through, gaining his momentum before finally rushing forward in relentless attack. She readied herself for the charge, yet still she trembled when it came rushing.

“You know why,” he said. “I’ll wait for you. I think I’ll always wait for you. Five years from now, you will probably fall in love and live together with some handsome guy, and I will still be in the studio, writing about you. You’ll fight with him and get drunk in a bar, and I’ll come get you, call you a fool and drive you back here. And I’m fine with that. I’ll be fine.”

He spoke too fast, as if he was desperate to throw it all out before his common sense could catch up to him. She was still trying to take it in when she realized he was already turning away from her, heading back to her front door.

He called out to her over his crooked shoulder. “See you on Monday,” he said. And then he was gone.

He left the gold bars untouched on the dining table.

 

 

 

 

 

The plane back from Singapore shook faintly as it was nearing Incheon. Beside Ji Hyo, Jin Hyuk clawed at the armrests. He quickly ran his hand through his hair when he caught her smirking at him. “Noona,” he said, breathless. “You really are fearless, aren’t you?”

Ji Hyo cleared her throat and closed her eyes. She was reminded of an interview session. “What are you afraid of?” they had asked. “Bugs and zombies. And my mother!” she had answered.

Even she didn’t know that she wasn’t telling the whole truth at the time.

The plane descended, and she could feel herself falling.

And she wasn’t afraid.

 

 

 

 

 

Gary found her sitting against his apartment door, with her legs splayed out and her head rested limply on her right shoulder. His grin was the first thing she saw after he tapped on her cheek gently, waking her up.

“Seriously, Song Ji Hyo?” he hissed, chuckling.

She blinked. “Kang Gary, I—” She took his extended hands, leaning on him as he helped her stand up. “Where were you? I called you, like, million times!”

“I was in the studio all night, I’m sorry.” He took his keys out of the pocket of his jeans—those damn keys—and let her go in the process. Her empty hands balled up into fists.

“Ji Hyo yah,” he continued, opening the door. “Have you been drinking?”

She followed him inside. “Huh? Jet lag. I just got off the plane.”

He stopped in his track, turning toward her. “Are you crazy? What are you doing here?”

Gary didn’t wait for her answer, walking to the kitchen with long strides instead. He made a lot of noises as he opened and closed the kitchen drawers, and she stood alone in his living room, waiting for the racket to dwindle down.

Gary reappeared a while later with a glass of iced water. He walked up to her and put it in her grasp.

She looked down at it, losing herself in contemplation. “Should I share this with you?” she said, more to herself than to him.

“What?”

“Kang Gary,” she started. “The plane I took, it landed so smoothly. It just glided on the tarmac. And we all clapped for the pilot. He was that good.”

He gaped at her, raising his eyebrows. “Ji Hyo yah, I don’t understand.”

Her arms flailed impulsively and droplets of water spilled out of the glass, staining her coat’s front. Gary made an undistinguishable sound at that, forcefully taking the glass out of her hands and placing it absentmindedly on the coffee table, creating more mess when more water flowed out of it.

And she laughed. And she laughed some more, so hard that she cried.

Gary called her name repeatedly, trying to make her stop, begging for explanation. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand,” he kept saying.

Ji Hyo took one last deep breath, then. “You’re so sloppy,” she said at last.

She sighed, then, wiping tears off her face, looking back at him clearer than ever. “That’s the thing, Kang Gary,” she murmured. “I don’t understand either.”

He stayed quiet, letting her finish. And so she carried on.

“None of this makes any sense. But when that plane landed, and all of us clapped, the first thing I wanted to do was to tell you all about it. The press kept asking about you and I thought about you every single time. I would make a joke and I would search you out, wondering how you would react, what you would say. Kang Gary, I—”

She paused there, covering her mouth with her hands. She watched Gary as he tilted his head. His forehead creased as he asked her, “What are you saying, Ji Hyo?” The sentence rolled out of his tongue with utmost care, weaving their way with a cautious tread.

But he wasn’t confused, she knew that much. He wasn’t confused.

And neither was she.

“I want to have you, Kang Gary.”

It was that easy.

It felt like his hands were already circling her waist the moment she mentioned his name, like he always knew what she would say. The thought gave her a giggle, cut short when he promptly drew her into him and pressed his lips to hers.

Here was Kang Gary, kissing her.

And there she was, kissing him back.

He began stumbling backward, leading their way. His feet kept slipping and his back continuously bumped into walls, and she was amused, pulling back to give a short laugh and whispering against his mouth, “Sloppy Kang Gary.” He answered her with a moan, tightening his grip around her waist. There was a thud when his knee knocked the foot of his bed, making him grimace. He lost his balance and fell sideways onto his mattress, taking her with him.

As they lay there, she kissed him still. She just kissed and kissed and kissed. And as she drifted off to sleep—still curled up inside his arms, her lips still grazed his lightly—she realized that all of this made sense. That they made sense. That _he_ made sense.

Kang Gary made all the sense in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

End.


End file.
